


Temptations

by haikuhamster



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bisexual Dean, Blasphemy, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean, Butt Plugs, Church Sex, Cocky Dean, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Exhibitionism, Face-Fucking, Fluff, Gay Castiel, Hair-pulling, Humor, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Kinda, Light Angst, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Phone Sex, Priest Castiel, Priest Kink, Seduction, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Humor, Supportive Sam, Top Castiel, Twink Dean, Voyeurism, author cannot be blamed for his obsession with dirty talk, castiel recites the bible during sex because he's a cheesy schmoopy dork, so basically just dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 06:50:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7608049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haikuhamster/pseuds/haikuhamster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even as a priest, some aspects of church were a bit boring to Castiel. Especially confessions. But when a certain young man decides to confess his sins, Castiel's experience gets a bit interesting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Forgive Me, Father

Confession is horrible. He loves church and he loves religion. He loves God and he loves the gospel. He loves giving services and he loves hearing testimonies. He loves seeing new faces, and watching people journey to faith. He loves being called "Pastor Castiel"; he takes pride in it. But he hates confession.

It's not like it's all bad. Generally, it's people falling back to addiction or having thoughts of adultery. Some kids come in and tell Castiel about they said a bad word, or how they took some sweets from the cupboard without permission.

"Father, I don't know what to do. I saw my son kiss another boy. He's only 16, so if he repents he can still be forgiven, right?"

Castiel simply sighs. Another one of these parents. "God is indifferent to sexual orientation. It is not a sin to love."

"But Father, the Bible says-"

"You mean Leviticus."

"Yes, in Leviticus it says-"

"'Whatsoever hath no fins nor scales in the waters, that shall be an abomination unto you.' Leviticus 11:12. If homosexuals are abominations, shrimp are as well. Your son has not done anything worthy of your concern. I advise you to inform him that God loves him just the same, and so do you."

"Th-Thank you, Father..."

"And God forgives you for your initial judgement. Some things cannot be helped."

The door in the man's stall opens. "Thank you, Father." Castiel hears the steps getting further away, and he sighs again. How obnoxious. If Castiel could be a gay priest without being smitten by God for blasphemy, a church-goer's son can be gay without his father complaining to a priest.

The door squeaks open suddenly, and the sound of someone sitting on the other side of the wall brings him to reality. "Sup, padre? Name's Dean," says a young man's voice. Low, but soft. Cocky and unfamiliar. 

"Castiel. What would you like to confess, Dean?"

A snort on the other end is confusing. "I've done a lot of bad things. Almost positive I'm going to hell, because my ideal heaven would be a brothel."

"Choosing to live a life of future abstinence may protect you in the eyes of God."

"Oh, that's not all. I also drink more than any one person should. It's not even legal for me till next year, but I drink because it's the only way I forget the bad things."

This kid has some problems. He doesn't even sound like he's remorseful. "Addictions can be overcome, whether it be to substance or sex."

A soft hum. "Say that again, Father."

"What?" replies the confused priest.

"Say 'sex' again."

"Why?"

"It was hot." Castiel's eyes go wide at this, blush creeping up his face. "Come on, Cas, for the road? I wanna commit it to memory."

"What reason would you have to require memory of me saying the word 'sex'?"

Dean chuckles. "Spank bank." Castiel immediately blanches, blood flowing south at the idea of this boy pleasuring himself to his voice. "If I'm about to survive re-virginity and sobriety, I'm gonna need a lot of lube and a lot of porn. You've got the perfect sex voice too."

Castiel shudders. "I- I don't think that's appropriate, Dean..."

"It's not. But ain't it sexy? I can totally guess what you'd sound like gasping and moaning though," Dean says calmly, as though he's talking about the weather. Castiel hears a hum followed by a noise.

Was that... a belt? "I don't-" That was definitely a zipper. "Dean, what are you doing?"

"Sinning." A low word followed by a soft gasp, likely Dean first touching himself. Castiel's so screwed. A certain part of him certainly hopes so. He's never felt lust before. Puberty brought sexual desire, but never directed at a person.

"S-Stop it."

Dean chuckles. "You and I both know you don't want me to. You queer too, Father? I bet you hate it when people come in here bitching about gay people. I bet sometimes you've got some ungodly thoughts up there, all violent and angry."

Dean sounds so smug. Now Castiel has a bit of ungodly anger rolling around. "It's annoying, but I plan no harm on others."

"Yeah? What about good on others, huh? Bet you're quite the stud with a voice like that."

"I-I'm not..." Castiel worries his lip a bit, knowing the implication and fighting himself on whether or not to feed it. "I don't ever..."

"Don't ever fuck, Father Castiel?" He shuddered at the full title. It was way hotter than it should've been. "A gay little virgin priest. I bet you wish you didn't take those chastity vows."

"I don't regret it, seeing as I'm not actively seeking sex." Castiel is embarrassed and angry. Who does this kid think he is?

"Didn't need to. It found you, in the form of me. I know you want me too, or you wouldn't be breathing so heavy. I bet you wanna watch me, don't you? Watch me while I jack off to your voice?"

"Dean, I-" A click interrupts Castiel. Then a sharp moan.

"I- I bet you'd love this, watching me with a- unh- finger inside myself for you. I bet you're so hard right now, wishing you could see through the screen like I can see you, biting your lip and making me wish it was mine."

Castiel can't keep the groan in on that one. He's so turned on that he's light-headed. "Y-Yes..." Dean let's out another sharp moan.

"Fuck, Cas... Keep talking. Tell me what you want."

He shouldn't. He should stop. But service ended a while ago and the church should be empty save for the two of them. No harm in words, right? "I want you to put another finger in."

Dean draws out a choppy groan of "fuck" and Castiel knows he followed the instructions. He can just picture him there, one hand flying along his length and another moving two fingers inside of himself. It's almost too much.

"Fuck, I'm close- mmh- Cas- anh," Dean's skin slapping on itself is loud and hot. "Fuck, fuck, oh fuck, shit, fuck, oh, FUCK-" Castiel clenches to keep himself from cumming himself at the sound of Dean finishing. He can hear the boy recovering as his breath slows.

Zip. Click. "I think I'll need to talk about that next week, seems like something to confess." Squeak. Footsteps. Castiel sighs. What did he just do?


	2. Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel's week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Apparently Saturday happens twice in this fic! What kinda bullshit AU is this? The kind that gets noticed a day later and fixed, that's what. Bare with me here, I hate editing so I usually leave it to spellcheck and forget shit like that. Whoops!

On Monday, Castiel got drunk. He'd flirted with the bartender, empty promises to show her a good time. She looked attractive, for a woman, and her personality was interesting enough. She called him Clarence.

A vow to resist temptations, how hard could it be? It was easy. Castiel was just fucking stupid. He'd been flustered, as anyone would be, but he cracked. He showed the boy he was interested and spurred him on. And now he was wasting his money on alcohol and lying to a stranger.

On Tuesday, Castiel enjoyed work. It was methodical and mentally consuming. All thought put into the sorting of books and dealing with visitors of the library. It was a small town, so some people called him Father. He tried not to flinch. 

On Wednesday, he called his father. He didn't answer. He never did. Castiel flirted with the bartender again, chugging back whiskey like it was sweet tea.

When he got home, he prayed for forgiveness for his actions. He had been putting it off because he didn't feel true remorse. He felt self-loathing, not anger on behalf of his failure to God. He ended the prayer in tears, apologizing instead for not feeling remorse even as he prayed.

On Thursday, he met a nice young man at work. He and Castiel discussed civil law for about an hour, and a few other patrons joined the conversation at times. The boy wanted to go to law school, but he never thought he'd get in. Castiel told him to always have hope and faith, and that no matter what, things happen for a reason. The boy's name was Sam Winchester, and he'd come into town on Saturday with his father and his brother.

On Friday, Castiel gave a youth sermon to a group of college students (rather, people aged 18-24), about 100 people total. Castiel was more comfortable with this group than any other.

"Having sex before marriage, cheating on partners, dishonesty, abandoning God: these are choices. Sexual orientation, gender identity, what personalities you're drawn to in friends, your emotions: these are things you cannot control. God is a fair judge and is not influenced by things you don't control in yourself."

Heads nodded around the room, leaving Castiel with a feeling of satisfaction. A hand raised in the middle of the room and he gestured to it with an open palm, trying to see the face of the person about to speak.

He didn't need the face to know who it was. The voice told him. "So I'm allowed to like it up the ass but not take it up the ass?" Dammit, Dean. The room filled with a mix of snickers and scoffs.

Castiel took a deep breath to compose himself. He stared at the boy, who was now leaning back on the bench with a smirk. His hair was light and short and his jawline was beautiful. He wore a leather jacket and had dirty blonde hair, just the right length for Castiel's fingers to run through or pull while he-

"Sex is meant for those in love. What you like doesn't matter, but your actions do," Castiel relied, looking the boy in the eye as best as he could. He tried to remain neutral in his voice and appearance.

"No, he's right, why does God care about my sex life if everything is consensual?" Another voice, on the right and towards the back, followed by argeeing murmurs.

Castiel resigned himself. Screw it. "I suppose you have a point. Church should focus more upon consent than marriage as the principle for pure sex, hm?" That garnered a few whoops and claps. Castiel smiled to himself.

He smiled until he looked at Dean, that is. The boy's grin was positively evil. He caught Castiel's eyes and winked at him. Castiel kicked himself for saying exactly what the boy had wanted him to.

He ended the service looking at his bible instead of the crowd, and he didn't leave until everyone else did.

On Saturday, Castiel decided to forget about it. He didn't need to worry, because what he'd said had been truthful. The bartender checked out a book. She left him a note with her phone number, followed by "Text me ;) -Meg". He threw it away.

On Sunday, he had service again. Sundays were more like lessons, and Castiel liked them. Today, he went over the story of Job and why he was a good example of perseverance and trust. He loved days like this, just reading the stories and not having to explain God's decisions and actions. Honestly, he didn't know why God did a lot of things.

After service, he stood by the pillar and waited for people to file out before he entered the confessional. He was dreading it. At least, he wanted to dread it. He knew he wanted Dean to come back.

The father returned this time. "Father, I told my son I accept him, and my wife fought with me over it. I said some things I shouldn't have said."

What, was Castiel a damn therapist? "If you're asking if you'll be forgiven, Ephesians 4:31-32 says, 'Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you'. Let your heart be filled with love and honesty instead, and keep strong in that you've done the right thing with your son."

"Thank you so much, Father. I'll leave you to the boy outside then." The man let out a deep breath, as Castiel took in a sharp one. Shit.

Creak. "Hey, Cas, miss me? I think I've sinned quite a bit this week."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like this fic or have any recommendations or desires on where I take this, feel free to comment! I read and reply to every single one. And short chapter, I know, but I wanted to actually describe the way Castiel felt confliction and angst. Next chapter will be NSFW though, so it'll be worth it! Also, I'm not at all religious but I've read the entire Christian bible cover to cover, so I know a few important verses that help push the whole actually-formal-religious-priest Castiel that a lot of fics overlook. They just make him a shy virgin. My Castiel knows shit (Catholic school can bring out quite a few kinks in a guy) but doesn't apply it out of religious confliction.


	3. Desire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mild dub-con which Castiel quickly confirms to be consensual, mild degrading (Cas calls Dean "slut" once which is p weak for me lmao), somewhat rough fellatio, BLASPHEMY BLASPHEMY BLASPHEMY. You have been warned.

He shouldn't. He knew it was a bad idea. He'd been playing over last week in his head, again and again until maybe he'd forgive himself. But maybe it wasn't a sin. Lust was a sin, but maybe this was just... coveting? Desire? Passion?

"Is your intent pure, Dean?" The boy's laugh was mocking.

"You could say that, especially after a couple nights ago." He didn't have to be face to face with Dean to know that stupid, cocky smirk was planted directly on his stupid, perfect face.

Castiel flinched, letting out a sigh. "Alright, Dean, tell me your sins." Dammit if Castiel's voice wasn't absolutely oozing with lust.

Dean chucked. "I dunno, Father, I'm pretty bad. I touched myself every day, and hell knows the object of my desire is quite an immoral one."

Castiel shivered, blood flowing south already. "Masturbation isn't sin, it's the impure ideals it wroughts that are sin."

Dean's voice dripped out like honey, deep and seductive. Castiel could imagine that glorious facial structure, gorgeous plush lips pulled into that smirk he'd been unable to purge from his mind. "Oh really, now? So maybe last week wasn't all bad, huh? Does that mean we get to do it again?"

We. The golden word. He couldn't. "No." Good boy, Cas.

"Aw, why not, huh? I could repay you this time..."

And damn if that didn't have goosebumps covering his skin, his common sense losing the fight with his libido. Castiel could deal with regret later. He let out a frustrated sigh that almost sounded like a scoff. When he spoke his words were ice- cold and hard and brutal- and they sent chills down Dean's spine just the same. "Get out and check that the church is empty. If it is, let me know and by the time I come out I want you bent over the altar facing the benches. Do you understand me?"

The sharp intake of breath was enough of an answer, but the "Y-Yeah..." that followed fed Castiel's ego. This boy needed to be taught respect, accountability, and good behaviour. Castiel smiled as the sound of fast-paced steps came towards him. A somewhat distant, echoing voice yelled, "Clear" and running steps were heard towards the altar.

As soon as Castiel was pretty sure Dean was situated, he stepped out of the confessional. His icy glare met the other's horny smirk, Dean's chin propped on his hands with his elbows on the altar. He slowly strutted over, stating, "So you're Dean." The boy nodded with smug enthusiasm, and Castiel sat directly in front of him on a bench. He made sure to spread his limbs out wide and relaxed, giving Dean a bit of a view.

"Tell me, Dean, why do you continuously attempt to seduce me?"

Dean's smirk grew bigger and his eyes lit up with a bit of humour. "You want honesty, padre? Because the answer is that you're hot, your voice is hotter, and the priest thing is a bit of an extra turn-on."

"That's not it, is it?" Castiel challenged, crossing his arms. "You want more than just sex, or you wouldn't be going for me. You want someone with rules, because you don't have any."

Dean stood up, his smirk morphing into a glare. "I've got plenty more rules than you think, bud. You're lucky I'm going for your virgin ass."

Castiel stood up as well, walking up to Dean and taking an authoritative stance right on the other side of the altar. He looked Dean in the eyes and said simply, "My ass is most certainly not virgin."

Dean's reaction was beyond worth it: immediate shock, then confusion, then giddy excitement. All to be checked back into the token grin. "Isn't that against your code or whatever?"

"Does it matter to you? And I thought I gave you a definite command in that confessional, Dean." The boy shot a pointed glance at him before bending over again, his face now level with Castiel's half-hard length. His eyes weren't drawn to that though; they stayed trained on the priest's.

"Alright, Father, what now? Gonna punish me for my sins? Or would you rather reward me for showing up and confessing like a good little Christian?"

The prospect of punishment was tempting, but that had to wait until next time. But Dean didn't have to know that. "Remove my cassock."

Dean looked over the cloth, clearly trying to figure out where to pull or unbutton. Castiel raised his arms, and Dean stood to pull off the garment, leaving the priest in black slacks and a black button-up to match. He got in place again, and his eyes were finally drawn to the tent in the pants before him, now fully hard in anticipation.

"Well?" Castiel asked, drawing Dean's eyes to his again. "Don't make me say it, slut."

With that last word, Dean's eyes darkened with lust and he nodded. He swallowed hard before speaking. "Can I get on my knees though? I wanna worship you."

Castiel suppressed a shudder at the choice of words, nodding himself. Dean quickly stumbled to his knees in front of him, Castiel now leaning against the altar with the boy's fingers making quick work of his button and fly.

When Dean pulled the slacks and boxers down to Castiel's ankles, his eyes widened at the cock in front of him. His mouth hung open a bit, and it took him a minute to regain his sense. The priest smirked a bit, self-satisfied, and thrust his hips forward to urge the young man on.

Dean licked the head, whimpering at the taste. He took the tip in his mouth, suckling gently and teasing the slit with his tongue. Castiel groaned, knotting a hand through Dean's hair. The boy slid down inch by inch, guided by the priest's grip pulling him down, until his nose was pressed against Castiel's stomach. Practice seemed to have eliminated his gag reflex, but the stuttering breaths through his nose showed that this was challenging his resolve.

Dean swallowed around the length and Castiel groaned, causing the boy to whimper around the cock in his throat. Their eyes met and Dean looked utterly beautiful, reverent and submissive, lips stretched so pretty. The hand in his hair tightened a bit, then, without warning, yanked him off. Dean whimpered at both the loss of Castiel's warmth in his mouth and the pleasure his hair being pulled brought.

But Castiel had other plans. This boy was an arrogant brat, but the priest was going to do this right. "Do you well and truly want this, Dean? Do you want me to use you?"

Dean's eyes softened and a more genuine smile tugged at his lips. "My safe word is Poughkeepsie. If my mouth is full I'll tap your leg twice." His smirk returned, along with the challenging look in his eyes. "But I consent, okay? Just let me back on your cock."

Oh, this was a God-given opportunity. Castiel had the explicit consent and safe words of a gorgeous boy. Instead of using his grip to pull him back into his cock, he yanked Dean up to his feet, capturing the escaped yelp with his own lips.

The kiss was claiming, dirty, and absolutely fucking mind-blowing. He used his tongue to turn Dean into putty, a whimpering mess unaware that he was rutting against Castiel's thigh.

He pulled off and whispered against Dean's lips, "How beautiful and pleasant you are, O loved one, with all your delights." Heat coiled in the boy's stomach and he couldn't help but drop to his knees again, taking the priest in his mouth again without promoting. He set a quick pace, meeting Castiel's gaze tit for tat.

"And your mouth like the best wine." They both groaned, one after another. Dean at the priest's blasphemy and Castiel at the vibration coming from the boys throat.

"It goes down smoothly for my beloved- anh- gliding over lips and teeth." His hands gripped at the alter until his knuckles were white, Dean quickening his motions as he freed his own cock and jerked it in time with his ministrations.

Castiel graveled out through gritted teeth, "I am my beloved's, and his desire is for me." His hand gripped Dean's hair, holding his face flush with his stomach as he came with a shout, buried in a moaning warmth as Dean came as well.

Dean pulled off as soon as the hand relaxed, and they both caught their breath with sagging bodies and closed eyes. Castiel opened his first, and dropped to his knees in front of Dean. He kissed him softly, smiling a bit as the boy's eyes fluttered open as he pulled away. He stood up, grabbing a sticky note from his bible and a pen. He jotted down his phone number, and, with a grin, wrote, "Call me ;) -Father Castiel".

He returned to Dean, who accepted the folded note with confusion evident on his features as he slipped it into his back pocket without reading it. Castiel was about to point out how uncharacteristically silent the usually outgoing boy was now, but he figured it could wait for later.

"I'd like to take you on a date, Dean. I'm going to do this right." Dean's eyes widened, and he nodded curtly. Castiel smiled, cleaning them both up a bit before kissing him again. He spoke the words softly into Dean's ear.

"May He grant you according to your heart's desire, and fulfill all your purpose."

With that, he stood up, and walked out of the church with a sense of satisfaction he hadn't been given over the last week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY, AM I RIGHT? I had to re-read my old chapters to get my spark back. I do think I did damn good in this chapter though.  
> Verses (in order of appearence):  
> -Song of Songs 7:6  
> -Song of Songs 7:9  
> -Song of Songs 7:10  
> -Psalm 20:4


	4. Sammy-Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I drew out a little map of the fabulous Winchester apartment. Sorry for the low quality, but [click here](http://imgur.com/a/YFoYK) for a moderately visible design plan. I took a picture with flash on and another with it off, so there's that eheh

It's been like, three hours. Maybe Dean's a little clingy. He can wait. He can so wait.

**Dean:** Hey, it's Dean.

Fuck. Hopefully he doesn't- _bzzt._

**Castiel:** Hello, Dean. I'm glad you followed directions.

_Fuck._

**Dean:** Don't think you've got the upper hand, angel. You're totally paying when we go out.

**Castiel:** Go out? On what grounds, exactly, will we be going out?

Dean scowled at his screen. That fucker.

**Dean:** A date, you douche-canoe.

**Castiel:** I'm more of a douche-kayak, if I do say so myself.

**Dean:** Really? I picture you as more of a raft made out of condom balloons. A douchey one, though.

**Castiel:** Thy words are blunt and so art thou.

**Dean:** Did you just quote Shakespeare?

**Castiel:** Did you just immediately recognize an obscure Shakespeare quote?

Shit. God dammit. He should've said _oh wow Cas those are some weird words you sure are quite the sexy nerd_ but no. Dean fucked it up, now he's gotta save it.

**Dean:** I'm young, Cas, but I finished high school.

**Castiel:** 2 Henry VI is a little political and violent for mandatory high school readings.

**Dean:** Saying it was mandatory is way better than the truth.

God, way to make it worse! Fucking hell. He should just throw his phone out the window and run it over a couple times.

**Castiel:** You can't just leave me with that, Dean. You've set me up to ask you for the truth.

**Dean:** Make me, fucker.

**Castiel:** If you desire, I suppose. If you don't tell me the truth on this, I'll pick your attire for our date.

Oh my god. He's so fucking cute, it's ridiculous. Who says attire? Dean has only ever seen Cas in pastor-chic, so his taste generally is probably pretty similar to that.

**Dean:** Oh boy, I'm quivering in my boots. Whatever shall I do?

**Dean:** Please, Cas. I can handle whatever sweater vest you're gonna put me in.

**Castiel:** Fine. Tomorrow, meet me at the library on Avocado at noon. We'll have our date at 7, at a place of my choice.

Fuck, okay. Cool. Meeting up again. That's cool. Play it coo-

"Is she cute?"

Dean's head shoots over to his brother. Fuck, he'd forgotten the kid was with him for a second. "How do you know I'm texting a chick?"

The kid smirks. "Because you're blushing, and you've been texting her for three hours. You're not exactly subtle."

"Shit, really?" He looks at the clock on his homescreen. 6:23, dammit. "Alright, I'll get on dinner. Mac and cheese with hotdogs sound good to you?"

He's already getting up and grabbing a pot when Sam's laughing voice follows him. "Yeah," he says as he sits on the stool across the counter from Dean. "You just wanna make something easy so you can keep texting your girlfriend."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Either way, not my girlfriend."

Sam holds up Dean's phone with a shit-eating grin. "So you're not going on a beautiful date tomorrow with the lovely Cas-teel?"

Dean snatches it back and shoots Sammy a glare, not denying anything. "It's Cas-tee-el. And my date is none of your business."

"Well when you go to the library tomorrow, take me with you. I need to return a book." Sam looks away pretty suspiciously after that, but Dean momentarily ignores it in favor of making sure his brother didn't send anything incriminating. It appears to be clear, the kid just went through his texts. Good. There's nothing bad about them... Yet.

**Dean:** I'm not entirely sure that's a great idea.

Dean looks back at his brother as he turns the heat on below his pots of water. "Since when are you all embarrassed about reading? What is it, Fifty Shades?"

**Castiel:** Why wouldn't it be?

Sam looks scandalized for a moment. "No, that book portrays BDSM through an extremely unhealthy abusive lense," Sam states as though he's said it a million times. Then he looks away again, a flush filling his cheeks. "The book I just finished reading was about LGBT history... specifically homophobia and transphobia. Like, throughout time, kinda."

Dean freezes with his hands primed to open to package if hotdogs and looks up at his brother, who's looking back at him with a kind of nervous fear that breaks Dean's heart.

Dean nods, "Huh. I don't think I've ever met a tranny before but I would like to think I would treat them how they'd like."

He continues opening the hotdogs and proceeding with cooking them as the air rushes out of Sam's lungs. "Trans people don't like to be referred to as that, for the most part. They usually refer to themselves as transgender people or just a trans people." The kid looks relieved and pleased, which makes Dean smile automatically.

"Oh, shows how much I know. When was this book written? Like, does it account for the legal accommodations countries have made recently?"

Sam's face lights up. "It was written in late 2015. The author is a gay trans woman, she's a historian and she started writing it because of the whole love wins thing."

**Dean:** My brother wants to come return his book. He's awesome but I don't know, man.

"Gay trans woman? So, does that mean she like other trans chicks or just chicks in general?"

"I'm not sure, I assume that's up to the individual. She probably just likes girls at large."

"Huh." Dean grabs butter and milk from the fridge and sets them on the counter before ducking down to get a colander from under the counter. When he gets back up, he asks Sam, "Do you have any opinions you wanna share about the stuff you read?"

"It's not really an opinion if I'm right," Sam smirks. "Anyone who would look down on someone for something they can't control is a fuckwad."

Dean belts out laughing, almost dropping the pot of macaroni into the sink where he's pouring it into the colander. He finishes pouring it out in between giggles, then walks around the kitchen doing all the necessities to get the hotdogs out of their pot too.

"That should be your senior quote, Sammy."

**Castiel:** I can behave, if that's what you're worried about. I'll only mention the vigorous blowjob if you mention it first.

Dean snorts and stirs the bag of cheese powder, the butter, and the milk in with the noodles. He's adding in salt and pepper when Sam says, "Oh great, what did Castiel say this time that's got you all pink?"

Dean smirks. "Here, I'll read it. _AHEM._ " He puts on a high pitched voice and proceeds to recite Castiel's exact words. "Wow Dean, you're soooooo handsome. I loooooove having super hot sex with you! I can't believe you weren't lying about being 10 inches soft!"

Sam mock-gags then joins Dean in hysterical laughter. Both are clutching the nearest surface and wheezing by the end of it, stuffing down fits of giggles every once in a while. Dean plates everything after they're mostly settled, smiling like an idiot and joining his brother in moving to the table.

**Dean:** I'm just... scared. If him knowing, y'know? He knows I sleep around a lot, but eh.

Sam scarfs down a bite of mac and cheese, then lets out a sound similar to a growl. "So good..."

"Glad you're sated by $3 worth of food, kid," Dean jokes, feeling a little proud.

**Castiel:** You're scared of him knowing about me though?

**Dean:** It's not you specifically or anything like that. I'm not ashamed of you.

**Castiel:** ... Are you not out to him?

Dean bites his lip, glancing at his brother. Sam's inhaling his hotdog like it'll kill him not to, and Dean smiles sadly as he looks back at his phone.

**Dean:** He's the most accepting kid in the world, I know he wouldn't care. I'm just... fuck. It's just weird, y'know?

**Castiel:** It's alright to be scared. I won't push it. How about I have one of the female associates give you the bag instead of me?

Dean smiles at Sam when the kid grabs both of their empty plates and tosses them, then starts on the dishes.

"I'm gonna cut, Sammy. Scream in agony if you need me."

"Thanks for dinner!"

**Dean:** I really don't want that. I don't feel ready to come out to him yet but I don't wanna lie to him either.

**Castiel:** That's alright. How about we deal with it when the time comes?

**Dean:** Yeah... Thank you.

**Castiel:** Of course.


	5. Serenity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I don't have an update schedule! I get sporadic bursts of motivation and currently most of it is aimed at Den of Iniquity. Just so many places I wanna take that hhhh,,, this I have no idea what I'm doing with but I'm having fun. Hope y'all enjoy the chapter!

"Deeeeeaaaan. Wake uuuuuuup, Dean."

The man in question groans and rolls onto his stomach, realizing a moment too late that he slept awful close to the edge of the bed last night.

"SON OF A BITCH," he shouts, as he gracefully glides onto the floor. Purposely. He didn't fall, no sirree.

Sam is busy laughing into a book, softening to wheezing giggles when his brother shoots him a death stare. Damn straight.

"It's 10, so you've got enough time to go through your preening before your rendevous with the illustrious Castiel," Sam wiggles his eyebrows with a smile.

"Yeah, you're right. I totally have to jerk off first so I'll be better there, good thinking!" Dean says, pointedly slightering a hand up his thigh.

"GROSS, DEAN," Sam squeals, running out and slamming the door. Dean laughs in his solitude, stretching out and rubbing the shoulder that had taken the brunt of his fall. Luckily, he was a wee bit too broke to afford a bed higher than a foot off the ground the last time he went to IKEA. It's at least half a decade old, but it works and that's really all that matters. One day he'll have memory foam, but until then, he can thank the small miracles that save his body from being crushed when his subordinate tries to commit fratricide.

Dean sat up and made his bed again before grabbing his phone. It's actually 10:07, Sam, you little shit. Punctuality is key. Dean chooses not to yell this fact across the house, opting instead to investigate the texts he got a couple hours ago.

 **Castiel:** Just for the record, if you were to bring coffee by any chance, I would be heavily grateful. My machine broke and I think I'm dying.

Dean just huffs a laugh and moves onto the next one. It's time-stamped about twenty minutes after the first. The text includes a picture of Castiel holding a cup and looking at it like it's filled with the very escence of God himself.

 **Castiel:** Nevermind that. I'm very much alive, thanks to my co-worker.

Dean full-on grins at that.

 **Dean:** Sounds like a real blessing, huh, Priestly?

He goes to set his phone down and get dressed, but it vibrates almost the second it hits the nightstand.

 **Castiel:** Good morning, Dean.

 **Dean:** Morning. Not gonna comment on the church references? I worked real hard on it.

 **Castiel:** I chose to ignore the blessing comment, and I don't know if "Priestly" refers to my nature or is an analogy.

 **Dean:** He's a character in Ten Inch Hero, he's played by a guy who looks like me.

 **Castiel:** Ah. Well, I bet you're far more attractive.

It's not even fair how much this damn guy makes him blush.

 **Dean:** I don't know, Cas. Jensen Ackles is a pretty sexy dude. And his wife? Smokin'.

A few moments pass after his text, which Dean uses to walk into the bathroom and start undressing. He's just got his shirt off when he gets the next message, which he chuckles as he reads.

 **Castiel:** ...He really does look like you.

 **Dean:** Nice use of Google, old man! But alas, he's an actor and I'm a guy who needs to shower or risk his date not wanting to bone because he smells like ass. :P

He contemplates sending a picture of himself shirtless to follow it up, but he decides against it. If he's lucky, Cas is already as whipped as he is. And if that's the case, the thoughts are already there anyway, and Dean is nothing if not a smug little fucker.

 **Castiel:** I am quite a fan of ass, so I wouldn't worry too much if I were you. But be thorough in the shower, Dean. Touch yourself, but don't come. I will know.

Dean can't be blamed for the shudder that racks him. He can practically hear that in the priest's damn grovel. He replies a cursory "fiiiiiiiine" and whips off the remainder of his clothes. He can't finish himself off, but he can totally stretch himself out and talk Cas into caving and taking him somewhere to bang later.

He turns the shower on and steps in, just letting the water rush over him for a bit, allowing the heat to soak into his muscles. After a few moments, he reaches for the Vaseline (which he's sure Sam has noticed, neither of them speak of it though) and coats his middle finger liberally. He smiles as he drops his hand, trailing his thumb down his body and letting the hand not in use fall to the shower wall after he's put the Vaseline down.

He reaches behind himself, avoiding his cock entirely and pressing the finger to his rim. He teases himself, can't help it, circling around and dipping the tip of his finger just barely in every once in a while. When he finally breaches himself he thrusts the finger as deep as he can, unable to hold back both his action and the resulting groan. It's barely a stretch, being just one finger, but he loves it anyway. Loves having something there.

He still remembers when Rhonda Hurley first did this to him, scaring the hell out of him during a blowjob. He'd gotten used to her circling around down there, but she pressed the tip of her finger in and he was pissed at her. He knows now that he was just repressing his own sexuality, but still, man. Undernegotiated kink.

Dean shakes off those thoughts and instead focuses on the slow rhythm of his finger. He takes it all the way out, teases himself all over again for a bit, then pushes back in. After a few minutes the water almost covers the groans to his own ears, which means he needs more. This time when he slicks up his fingers he coats his index and ring in addition to the middle, before reaching back again and swiftly sliding to of his fingers into himself. This time his groan is admittedly less masculine, but that's neither here nor there.

He knows he's going to be more noisy now, always is when he starts to feel a bit more stretched, so he pins his forearm against the shower wall and uses it as a gag for himself. He slowly inches the fingers out, then slowly back in. He wiggles them around a bit, not exactly scissoring as simply stretching, purposely avoiding the spot that might give him any semblance of relief. He's rock hard, but he ignores it, knowing that if he gives into the temptation even to let off the pressure he wouldn't be able to cut himself off. He certainly doesn't wanna disappoint Castiel.

And fuck, Castiel. Isn't that just a divine thought. He'd gone to the church intending to defile a Christian chick; Catholic School raises some kinky girls. The girls who like being laid over a knee and spanked, tied up, and called things like "naughty brat" and "little cockslut" by a guy with a deep voice and a decent dick. Dean never went to Catholic School, but he certainly likes the idea of Castiel doing that stuff to him.

He doesn't even feel like he's violating the man, which almost makes it sweeter. This godly man, the one who's devoted himself to a life free of sin, who's taken a vow of chastity, just gives it up and absolutely destroys Dean. He's not some blubbering virgin, he methodically allows his lust to become an art. He's controlled, controlling, and fuck it's sexy.

Dean bites his arm and thrusts a third finger inside of himself, stretching himself with a slow pace. He goes the opposite of how Castiel would go. The other man would open him up quickly, he knows it. The priest is deliciously rough, and he'd want Dean wrecked and begging before he even takes himself out of his slacks. He'd tease a bit, pressing the head of his cock just against Dean's hole to hear him cry a little bit, then shove in and pound until Dean couldn't make a single noise, could barely breathe.

Dean takes his fingers out at the last second, whining at the orgasm he barely stopped himself from getting to. He rubs a little bit of shampoo on his fingers and puts them under the water, ignoring the way his entire mid-section throbs with desperation. Willing his cock down is a lost cause at this point. Instead, he turns the water a bit colder and washes himself as thoroughly as the can manage while avoiding his dick and ass.

He finishes quickly and puts the towel around his waist. He speeds back to his room, almost managing to close the door before his brother sees him.

"Hey, Dean," Sam calls from his own doorway. Dean stops and looks at his brother like a deer in the headlights, praying he doesn't notice the semi he's still praying away. Thankfully, he doesn't seem to see it. "You should wear a kilt, y'know, so you can show her how cultured you are."

Dean pretends to contemplate it as he shuffles subtly behind his door. "How do I put this nicely... No." He grins and Sam chuckles before closing his door, leaving Dean to heave out a breath of relief. The saving grace is that his boner is now gone, which is going to make getting dressed far more comfortable.

Speaking of that stupid fucking boner, he's actually pretty surprised he managed to not get himself off. He closes his own door and pulls off his towel, grabbing his phone.

 **Dean:** Youre fucking cruel, Cas.

 **Castiel:** *You're. ;)

 **Dean:** Your' a dick.

 **Castiel:** And you're exasperating.

Dean smiles and sets his phone down. He definitely hopes he is, it'd serve the guy right. Any hotter and Dean would probably cry on sight.

"20 minutes til we cut, kiddo!" he yells to Sam. He hears an affirmative and walks over to his closet, pulling out the tightest jeans he's got. He doesn't own anything he wouldn't wear around his brother comfortably, but these babies make his ass look fuckin' incredible. Castiel is choosing his clothes for tonight anyway, so he guesses it doesn't matter much. He does, though, wanna push for a pre-game in apology for Cas' shower villiany. With sex in mind he decides on a red and black plaid flannel, with nothing beneath it so to spare time. He throws the clothes on his bed for now, walking over to pull out a pair of underwear. Tight black boxer briefs seem only fitting, really.

He puts on the clothes and checks himself out in the mirror. He looks pretty damn good, in his own humble opinion. He tussles his hair a bit and pops himself a wink. Hell yeah.

He puts on socks and some black steel-toe boots, then his watch. It all fits pretty nice, but he's missing something. He looks in the mirror again, spreads the collar of his shirt a little bit to show a little more collar bone, but still needs something. He decides to ask his brother.

"What am I missing here? I feel like I'm missing something," Dean says, unceremoniously. He gestures to himself as he walks into his brother's room, where Sam is sitting on his bed reading something on his phone.

His brother looks up and shoots him a little smile. "The necklace, Dean," he says softly. Dean's eyes widen and he points at his brother in a sort of _exactly_ way, and he runs to go get it off his bathroom counter. He puts it on and smiles, there it is.

Sammy had given him that necklace 8 years ago for Christmas. John hadn't shown, and Dean had cracked and told him where their dad was. Needless to say, Sam wasn't happy to hear that he was 6 hours away spending Christmas with the 16 month old little brother they weren't supposed to know about. Dean had been given a present meant for John, and fuck if that didn't make him feel warm and fuzzy with a side of guilty.

Dean puts his phone and wallet in his pockets and walks back into Sammy's room. "Let's go," he shoots, smiling at the way his little brother's face lights up. The boy scrambles to pick up his book before turning back and following Dean out to the car.

When they're buckled up and situated, Dean turns to his brother. "You embarrass me, I tickle you til you piss your pants. You know I will." He gives him a glare, but Sam just rewards it with a shit-eating grin.

"Trust me, I'll be a little angel. Don't be surprised if she thinks I'm more handsome than you." Dean rolls his eyes and they both chuckle, drowned out by the sound of the engine starting.

It's a pretty quick drive, so Dean doesn't get a lot of time to prepare. He doesn't want to panic, he just wants to get it over with. He pulls up to the library and Sam jumps out before the engine is even off. "Wait up, kid," he calls, but it's fruitless. Sam's holding the door open for him, so that's good.

He walks in and looks around a bit. It's been years since he's been in a library for anything but his brother. He spots Castiel standing behind the counter, but the man's attention isn't on him. It's on his little brother, who's currently already standing on the other side and talking a mile a minute.

"Hey, Father Novak! I read the book you told me to, it was really good. I like how the author uses analogies and anecdotes, it really pushes her message in an effective way." Both of them smile and Cas takes the book, setting it off to the side before replying.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. There's a section on controversial topics over there," Castiel points to a section marked **Young Adult CI** in Comic Sans on a laminated sheet of green construction paper, "if you'd like to look into some other subjects similar to that. I find that a good argument of a challenging claim is as interesting to read as science fiction."

Dean moves his feet over before his gut can tell him otherwise. It's fucking adorable seeing his... fuck-buddy... talking to his little brother. "Heya, Cas. I see you've met Sammy already." He pointedly avoids looking at the boy in question.

"Yes, it's most certainly a pleasure. He's a startlingly intelligent young man," Castiel replies coolly, looking directly into Dean's eyes with a hint of a smile.

"Wait... Cas?" Sam pipes up, and the man in question looks at him.

"It's Castiel, but yes." _Oh fuck._

"I thought Dean was here for a girl he's dating," Sam says. _Fuck fuck fuck. Go big or go home._

Dean turns to his little brother, but flicks his eyes to Cas for reassurance. The man's eyes are soft. He takes a deep breath and looks his little brother in the eyes, finding mainly suspicion there. "I'm not dating a girl this time, Sammy. I'm dating Cas."


	6. Season 12, Time for a Coming Out Party!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this took ages. I just couldn't pump out the before-the-date stuff so I just had a shitload of notes on how I want the next chapter to go without anything but the first and last parts of this. Expect the next one soon(ish), but maybe not because I've also got like 50000 half-finished one-shots and continuations of other fics and aaAAAAAHHHH.

Castiel flits his eyes between the two boys, gaging their reactions to the situation. Sam's face is slowly morphing from confusion to surprise, seemingly filling out blanks in his mind. Dean, on the other hand, looks like the words out of his mouth weren't his own. He's starting at his brother, terror poorly masked throughout his face.

Castiel understands the gravity of the situation at hand, though mostly through empathy. Dean just came out to his little brother, pretty directly, after making it clear he was afraid to.

Sam's lips quirk up a bit and his eyes soften to match it. His expression is gentle when he looks at Dean and says, "If he doesn't treat you right I'm gonna snap his femurs." Dean looks shocked, then both Winchesters grin and chuckle a bit. Castiel is only slightly horrified.

Dean and Sam appear to have a conversation with their eyes for a moment, before Sam nods and Dean pats his shoulder. Castiel waits until Sam has skipped off and Dean has turned to him to speak.

"I'm proud of you," he smiles. Dean matches the smile for a moment, then winks. Castiel hasn't the slightest idea why that makes him laugh immediately, but it certainly does.

Dean doesn't respond, instead opting to tease, "So, a priest and a librarian, huh? You a veterinarian too?"

Castiel grins. "No, not necessarily. I do keep bees, though."

" _Bees?_ You're a weird, dorky little guy," Dean says with a smirk.

"I have nothing to be ashamed of," Castiel argues. "Bees are responsible for the pollination of roughly 64 percent of the world's food crops. They're very admirable creatures."

Dean laughs and Castiel is slightly confused as to what he finds funny about the importance of honey bees, but he decides to let it pass unspoken. The sound of Dean's laughter, the look on his face... This man is surely a miracle created directly from the hands of God.

When Dean gets like this his eyes squint just nearly shut, showing crow's feet around the edges that are otherwise imperceptible. His nose scrunches up and he gets these adorable little smile lines. His cheeks soften noticably, his top row of sharp teeth sparkle, and dimples show themselves vaguely if he laughs hard. A blush adorns his cheeks and the sound of his joy is rapturous to Castiel.

He watches as Dean cools down a bit and collects himself, and Castiel rights his staring a moment late.

"See somethin' you like, Mr. Apiary?" Dean visibly fights a giggle at his own joke.

Castiel wishes he couldn't feel the flush that overcomes how face. Instead he settles for a nervous smile. "It's apiarist. And I'm simply trying to think of the easiest way to tell you this."

Dean tilts his head and asks Castiel in worry, "What is it?"

Castiel looks at the counter and sighs. "I..." He pauses for dramatic effect, then looks Dean in the eye. "I'm gay. And I think I'm a librarian too."

Dean bites his lower lip in an effort to stave off a fit of hard laughter, and Castiel decides he'd like to bite that lip instead. _What a Godly example you set, blasphemer._ Dean stows his features and looks Castiel in the eye, the boy's twinkling in amusement that defies his angry frown. "I can't believe you think you're a librarian, Cas. God made Adam and Eve, not stock shelves and read."

Castiel only notices Sam's return to the counter when he hears the boy's laughter mingling with his and Dean's. Sam holds a book under his arm with a library card poking out not very far into it, but still a decent amount. Castiel raises an eyebrow holds his hand out after a moment to take it, grinning at Sam's sheepish smile. He loves to read, Castiel can't blame him for getting overeager in his attempt to feel the book out.

Castiel looks at the book cover, both surprised and unsurprised to see that it's Richard Wright's _Native Son_. His eyes widen and flick to Dean, who's grinning at Sam with pride broadcasted throughout not only his expression, but his entire body. Castiel looks back to the oblivious Sam. "I'm surprised you haven't read this already. The way it portrays the society of that time is astounding. I've found that even credible history sources often focus exclusively upon white-on-black murder and violence, and it's wonderful to read about the effects it actually had upon the African American youth."

Sam's face lights up the way it does every time Castiel talks about books with him. "Yeah, I just got to the part where Peggy gives Bigger his room. We've lived in some places where we had to share a room too, but I can't imagine the fear and uncertainty he has with this white family treating him with respect. I mean, other than Mary. She's really weird, but she doesn't seem horrible or anything like that."

"Yes, Mary is quite an interesting character. She's a communist, and that time was between the Red Scares but she still was judged by her parents. It's interesting, that dynamic," Castiel replies smoothly, giving no spoilers. He can feel Dean's gaze on him. He glances over and sees barely concealed delight on the other's face, and he smiles a bit in return.

Castiel's attention turns fully to Sam once more when the boy starts speaking. "Yeah, I wanna research some of the anti-communist propaganda from the first Red Scare. We only really see stuff from the second because that was during the Cold War, the Korean War, and Vietnam."

The priest grinned, moderately surprised at the boy's knowledge of this. It's certainly beyond that which he was taught in his high school classes. "Yes, well, the threat of nuclear warfare was imminent at the time. It was certainly something to be scared of, and it still is."

Dean pipes up, and Sam grins at his older brother with mischief and excitement. "Yeah, but if anyone's scary it's us at this point. America has almost 7000 nukes in our total inventory, and Russia has an estimated 7k too. North Korea probably has less than 50, and we're scared shitless of what they could do with those. It's crazy, man."

Castiel looks at Dean curiously. He could guess that Dean was pretty smart as well, but he isn't as overt as his younger brother. The man flushes and Castiel saves him by speaking. "You have to understand that most of North Korea's weapons are far more destructive than those in our arsenal."

"The biggest reason to fear North Korea's nukes is that Kim Jong-un is a fucking lunatic at his best," Sam smirks.

"Language," Dean says, but his face shows that he's enjoying the conversation far too much to put any real concern into his brother's manners.

Castiel takes the comfortable silence as his opportunity to pull a reusable cloth bag from under the counter. He hands it to Dean, who eyes it for a minute before remembering the context. All three of them smile (Why is Sam smirking?) and Castiel says to Dean, "Wear that to our date."

Dean nods and gazes at him a bit, his beautiful green eyes boring into Castiel's own. Sam is pushed towards the door by his older brother, but leaves willingly with the book in hand and a well-intended roll of his eyes.

Dean breaks eye contact to glance and see that his brother is out of the library, then leans over the counter to give Castiel a sweet kiss. It's not deep, it's the type of kiss that lovers share after years of exchanging them. A soft slotting of lips with no intention but a declaration that you're special to them, and Castiel wants to share this with Dean until the other man understands just how important he is, how wonderful, how adored. How perfect he is.

But Dean is pulling away and they're both smiling wide, eyes open just enough for their gazes to connect again. Dean chuckles a bit and pulls back, gripping the bag a little tighter. "Later, Cas." Then he turns around and walks out, Castiel watching him leave.

"Was that..." Kevin, one of the assistants, starts. "Dean Winchester? He's gay?"

Castiel looks over to see the young man wide-eyed, staring at the door as well. Kevin is bisexual, so Castiel knows he's only surprised. There's not a prejudiced bone in the boy's body. The priest chuckles a bit then says, "No, he's mine." Kevin fights off laughter and loses, going from a few snorts to being doubled over as the cackles rack through him.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Sam scampers off to his room within seconds of crossing the doorway, which is fine with Dean. He goes to his own room and closes the door. He's been curious about the bag, because it felt kinda hard at the bottom.

He digs in without looking and pulls out one item of clothing, a dark brown leather jacket. He looks it over and decides it's fucking awesome, but probably a little too expensive for him. He resigns to tell Cas that after he finishes looking at everything. He pulls out the next item, a soft blue t-shirt. Those colors will look awesome on him, he knows that for a fact. He smiles and pulls out the next thing, a pair of black jeans that are far better quality than anything he can remember having. These must have cost like $40, which means Cas probably got them at an actual clothing store instead of a thrift shop. Who even does that? Rich fuckers, that's who.

He pulls out the pair of green boxer briefs as well, noting how comfortable the fabric feels. The last thing in the bag is... A box. He feels around it but it's covered in wrapping paper, so he decides he'll open it after he shoots Cas a text.

 **Dean:** I'm already going on a date with you, no need to win me over with expensive clothes.

 **Castiel:** They weren't too expensive. Did I make you uncomfortable? I thought I may have been a bit... presumptuous.

 **Dean:** ?? Nah, it's good, just not what I'm used to. These feel all soft and nice, I don't know what I did to deserve them lol

 **Castiel:** It's no problem at all. Don't think you have to do anything to earn my affection.

 **Dean:** Alright, alright, you sap. Just remember, you totally have to earn my affection. Pie helps, apple is preferable.

 **Castiel:** Ass.

Dean's cheeks are flushed by the time he goes for the box. He tears open the paper on top, revealing plain cardboard. What the hell? He rips the paper off entirely and searches for the opening to the box. It's taped down, which, really?

Dean finagles a bit with the tape and finally gets it after way too much effort. He opens the box, and inside is styrofoam molded to fit a blue buttplug. It looks like there was something next to it that's since been taken out, and Dean hopes it was because Cas took it out rather than the man not getting what he paid for.

Back to the plug, it's kinda big. Not huge or anything, it's maybe the size of two or three fingers, but it's big enough that he'd be aware of its presence for as long as it was in.

Whatever, challenge accepted. Dean could totally be stoic during a date with it in.

Dean gets naked swiftly and crawls onto his bed. He grabs the half-empty bottle of lube from his nightstand and slicks up two fingers, flipping onto his stomach. He reaches behind himself and circles one finger around his hole a bit, curling his other hand into his sheet while he teases himself.

He presses his finger in just a little bit, pulling it back out and repeating the motion. He goes a tad deeper every time, and eventually his knuckles are resting against his rim. He wiggles his finger around a bit, and he's right about to start pumping it when his phone rings. It's Castiel, that asshole.

"What?" Dean snaps the second he answers, finger still buried deep.

"Hello, Dean," Castiel responds. "Are you busy?"

Dean grins and starts moving his finger in and out again, slow and deep. "Yeah, a bit. What's on your mind?"

"You," is the response. Dean shivers and puts his phone on speaker so he can curl his fingers into the sheet again. "What are you doing right now, Dean?"

"Getting ready for our _daaaaaate_." He decides to add a second finger, having hit his prostate already.

"Oh really?" Cas asks, and Dean has two fingers shallowly pumping in and out and his cock and dragging against the mattress and a sexy voice in his ear and, god, this dull ache of pleasure is quickly becoming more. "You should a bit breathless, Dean. Are you alright?"

Dean scissors his fingers out a bit, stretching himself. "I'm actually- ah- feeling a little dizzy." He grabs for the buttplug and tries to lube it up with one hand, keeping his fingers moving.

"How unfortunate. Is your heart beating quick, Dean?"

"God, yeah." He pulls his fingers out with a whine and teases his open rim with the top of the plug. "I'm gonna be honest, Cas, the little sickness act is fun but I'm so fucking horny right now can you please just-"

Castiel chuckles darkly on the other end and god it's so fucking hot. "How many fingers do you have in your pretty little ass when you answered my call, Dean?"

"God, your voice- I had one in, I was just starting to open myself up." He pushes the plug in a little bit, but quickly pulls it out. "I put in another and stretched myself so now I'm all good. Tell me what do to, Cas."

"Get that plug in, sweetheart," Cas says, and the endearment makes Dean whine while he follows the orders. "Slowly, though. Don't hurt yourself."

Of course Cas would be a gentle dom. "If this was your cock you'd put it in nice 'n slow, huh?" Castiel groans and Dean continues, not wanting the conversation to end even though the base of the plug lays firmly at his rim. "Stretch me open on four fingers until I was yelling at you that I'm ready. Push in a bit an' I'd shove myself back, bury you as deep as possible before you were ready. Clench down real tight, you'd like that."

Dean grinds himself down into his bed, deciding to actively chase release. "God, Dean, you must look absolutely stunning like this."

His cheeks flushed, so he ignored the comment. "Say somethin' sexy from the Bible like you did last time, Cas."

"Fuck. _Osculetur me osculo oris sui quia._ " Castiel's growl was hot in normal circumstances, but him reciting Latin Bible verses as dirty talk is more than enough to make Dean shake and come into his bedsheets with a drawn-out moan.

"Come on, Cas," Dean breathes out. "Come for me."

" _Filia principis iunctura feminum tuorum sicut monilia, quae fabricata sunt manu artificis_ ," Castiel says, then goes dead silent with a choked off breath. After a moment he groans, and Dean can imagine the sated look on his face.

"God almighty," Dean says with a chuckle. "What did that even mean?"

" _'Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth.'_ That was the first verse. The second one was, ' _Your thighs are like jewels, the work of a craftsman.'_ "

Dean laughs, sitting up and taking the phone off speaker while he goes to grab a washcloth and clean himself. "The Bible sounds like shitty fanfiction. What's with the Latin, though?"

"It's what came to mind. I think I've told you, I'm fluent in a few languages. I didn't exactly have friends growing up."

Dean starts throwing on his clothes, giving himself a good look in the mirror. "You're a dork, you know that?"

Cas' soft laughter is interrupted by the sound of a door opening and a guy's voice. After a moment, Castiel tells Dean, "I believe I must bid you farewell for now. Kevin came to tell me that I've been on break for half an hour."

Dean barks out a little laugh and asks, "What did he end up seeing and smelling there? Because I don't recall hearing you clean up."

"He didn't see anything but a messy shirt, and as for the smell I didn't even consider it. He just told me I'm lucky he owes me. I've caught him in a similar situation with a girlfriend of his before, however he wasn't alone in the break room at the time. I decided to pretend the incident never occurred."

Dean shakes with his laughter, imagining what Cas must've looked like in that situation. He'd grimace, apologise, then walk away and sit silently for a few minutes. It would be hilarious. "Jesus, Cas," Dean grins. "Only you. Go back to work though, I'll see you in a bit. You're picking me up?"

"Yes, Dean. Goodbye."

"Later, baby." Dean hangs up and lays on his bed with a dopey smile he can't begin to explain.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Dean's dozing off a little when Sam knocks on his door, but he manages to grumble out, "Come in!" without sounding like too much of a dick. The kid opens the door and sits on Dean's bed next to where he's laying down.

"Are we gonna talk about this?"

Dean sighs. He expected this, just maybe not immediately. "Yeah. What do you wanna know?" he asks, peeking an eye open to look at Sam.

The boy looks surprised, like he didn't expect Dean to be so easy about it. He decides not to comment, instead asking, "Why didn't you tell me?"

That's the question Dean's been loathing. He knew Sammy would ask that. "I don't know," he says, looking away now. "I really don't. I know you're okay with it and stuff, and I don't think I have any shame in it or anything..."

"It doesn't fit your persona," Sam says bluntly. Dean looks at him, offended, but Sam just continues. "Come on, dude. You're Dean 'Lady-Killer' Winchester. You eat, sleep, and breathe women and you know I'm not talking about romance here. You portray yourself as this macho dude, but you forget I've watched you dote on me for as long as I can remember."

Dean laughs bitterly. "I've had relationships beyond sex, people just don't usually like my actual personality."

"But you found someone who does," Sam says softly, smiling. "Cas looks at you like you look at Ellen's pie, and that's saying something. I don't care that he's a dude, obviously, I'm just kinda wondering what you're gonna do about the whole age thing. He's like, what, 40?"

"He's 33," Dean defends, then winces. "Yeah, you're right. That's me and a half. He was a freshman in college when I was learning about the anatomy of bugs in second grade."

"Exactly," Sam replies, repeating Dean's wince. "If I was dating someone 11 years older than me you'd flip out."

"Yeah, I just..." Dean sighs and stares at the ceiling. "I don't see age as a big thing with us, y'know? If he was into me because I look like a twink, or if he wanted me to call him daddy or something that'd be a different story. I know you don't wanna hear about this, but we haven't even had sex. It's not like he's only into me because I'm young, and if I was into him for his age I wouldn't be saying any of this."

"Just... make sure you're happy," Sam looks at his brother until Dean makes eye contact. "Don't think you need to stay with him for any reason. If you see any red flags, you're allowed to think about yourself and leave him without regard for whether or not it might hurt him."

Dean smiles a sad little smile, but says, "I know. If you think I'm in danger, call Bobby before Dad. Just like I taught you."

"Dad would probably be pissed at you for dating a guy in the first place, let alone letting yourself relax in front of one."

Dean sits up and squeezes his little brother's shoulder. Pissed is an understatement, try drunken beatings. "Yeah," Dean said. "But if nothing else, he'd be mad at me for dating some hippie librarian Christian. So I'm not really worried." Both of them chuckle, and sit in comfortable silence until Dean's phone buzzes.

 **Castiel:** I think I'm here. Can you come out?

Sam reads it over his shoulder, the nosy little shit, and snorts. "You just did." Dean punches him in the shoulder, ignoring his protest, and stuffs his phone in his pocket. He remembers at the door to say goodbye, and waits until it's returned before looking around outside.

Cas is sitting in a shitty pimpmobile, and god if that's not fucking wonderful. He looks nervous as hell, so Dean decides to walk over and put him out of his misery. He knocks on the passenger window like a hooker, and laughs when the priest startles. His shock quickly turns to a gentle smile.

"Hello, Dean."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed! I'm not sure how I feel about the phone sex but I totally love supportive!Sam so I'm happy with how that part turned out. Don't worry, he'll totally weasel more information out of Dean throughout them story. I'm shameless, man.
> 
> Also, verses in order:  
> -Song of Solomon 1:2  
> -Song of Solomon 7:1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, hope y'all enjoyed it! Comments and kudos are incredibly appreciated, tell me what you think!


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